


Operation: Stocking Stuffers

by wyntera



Series: A Gift For You [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Peapod McHanzo Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntera/pseuds/wyntera
Summary: We made it to the last day of Peapod McHanzo Week! Thanks for the ride, y'all!Day 7 is Home for the Holidays!One last mission before the big day.





	Operation: Stocking Stuffers

Hanzo is not sure what wakes him. Perhaps a lack of sound where sound should be, or a feeling that things are not in their proper place. Eyes still closed he slides his hand out and does not encounter the other warm body that should be in the bed. Hanzo finally looks, and sure enough, Jesse’s side of the bed is empty. The sheets, however, are still warm. The clock reads 3:27 a.m. which is far, far to early for McCree to be awake and out of bed. The only times Jesse is up at this time while off-duty are when he is drinking (and Hanzo would be drinking with him if that was the case) or he has had one of his night terrors. Worry that it is the latter has Hanzo rising to fetch his silk robe.

His prosthetics tapping on metal sound louder than normal in the silent hallway; there is not an open bedroom door to be seen, not a peep from behind any of the walls. Even Hana’s room is quiet. One of the unofficial rules of the season: no live streams on Christmas Eve. Hanzo heads for the kitchen first as Jesse is prone to seek out the strongest cup of coffee he can find when his nightmares find him. But the kitchen is empty.

Perhaps Jesse went out to smoke. Hanzo hopes not. An unexpected freeze settled over Gibraltar just the night before last and the blistering cold has not let up sense. Hanzo would rather not have to retrieve a half-frozen cowboy with a nicotine addiction. He is just thinking that maybe he should have grabbed something warmer than a silk robe when he hears voices coming from the stairs leading to the common room.

Hanzo slows, listening to the soft murmurs. He does not want to intrude on anyone. Then he hears his wayward cowboy’s warm laugh. Easing down the stairs, he takes a peek out to find Jesse, Reinhardt, and Torbjörn gathered around the massive decorated tree in the far corner. Jesse is off to the side moving over something out of Hanzo’s sight, and the older men appear to be assembling something plastic in the glow of the Christmas tree lights. Under the tree there is already several assembled toys including plastic three-wheeled cycles (Big Wheels, Jesse had said when they helped carry the boxes in from the garage) and a giant castle made of colored blocks. Their current project is much more pink and purple.

With dawning delight, Hanzo realizes they are playing Santa.

“No, that piece doesn’t go there. You have it turned around,” Torbjörn says.

Reinhardt does not seem to agree. Hanzo hears the dull clack of plastic hitting plastic. “The stickers are facing the outside, it has to be right.”

“No, it’s not. Those stickers are for the closet. Oh, give me that.” He takes the piece out of Reinhardt’s hand and clicks it in place. “See? Now the roof will fit.”

“Ahhhh!”

Listening to Reinhardt keep his voice so low and quiet is a lot like listening to the rumble of a great bear, or maybe a moose, if Hanzo knew what one sounded like. They finish assembling what turns out to be a dollhouse before pushing it to one side and arranging a few dolls around it. Hanzo smiles, already imagining Torbjörn’s many children swarming around the tree in just a few hours. They normally do not stay at the Watchpoint, the Lindholm’s having a lovely cottage back in Sweden that Hanzo and Jesse have visited on a few occasions. But this year, with the increase in missions and Talon activity, his family decided to join their father here for the holiday. They all know that it makes Torbjörn feel so much more at ease having them nearby, and the children have been a delight to have around.

When the two men step back to admire their handiwork, Jesse speaks up. “Looks like somethin’ out of a Christmas commercial, fellas.”

“Excellent. Now, what do we have left over here?” Reinhardt asks.

“Aw, y’all can go on up to bed, I can finish up.”

“Nonsense! We can’t leave you to do all this.”

Hanzo makes a point to step heavy down from the last step, alerting them to his presence. “Maybe I can help?”

The heads of all three jerk up with guilt at being caught but they all relax when they see it is just Hanzo. Jesse smiles and waves a bag of candy at him. “Hey, honeybun. Did I wake you?”

“No, not at all,” he lies, walking over to join them. Jesse is sat cross-legged in an open space next to the tree and its pile of presents, red stockings spread out around him. The white fluff trim at the top of each stocking has a name written in glitter-paint. There is still some glitter left on Jesse’s hands. Next to Jesse is a mound of bags all filled with candy. “I did not know we were doing stockings this year.”

“Last minute idea,” Jesse explains.

“Aye. And McCree mentioned he got a stocking every year as a wee one.” Torbjörn nudges one of the stockings with his foot. “Never a tradition we had growing up, but with Orisa, Efi, and all my brood on base, we figure the more traditions started the better.”

Hanzo nods. “It was never a tradition in my household either.” He spots a pair of stockings with Udon and Soba’s names on them and cannot hide his smile. “I will help Jesse finish here, if you wish to go to bed.”

“Are you sure?” Reinhardt asks, always helpful.

“Yeah, we got it, big guy,” Jesse says, ripping open a bag of peanut butter cups. “You head on up. We won’t be long.”

“Of course. Ah, just one thing!” Reinhardt goes back to the tree and collects all the cookies from the plate beneath, handing them out. “I made sure to tell the children that Santa needed a good stack of cookies for all his trouble.”

Jesse looks the chocolate chip cookie over before taking a bite. “Next time tell ‘em to leave a steak dinner.”

Reinhardt ends up eating his entire cookie in one bite. He leaves a scattering of crumbs on the plate then drains the glass of milk, putting both back where he found them. “Alright, off to bed.”

“You boys get some sleep,” Torbjörn says as the older two men head for the stairs. “The children will be up in a few hours knocking on every door, mark my words.”

“We will. Goodnight, and Merry Christmas,” Jesse calls.

They return the farewell and disappear up the stairs, leaving Hanzo and Jesse and a floor full of stockings. Jesse immediately turns apologetic. “I’m sorry I woke you up, darlin’. I thought I’d be out and back before you’d notice I was gone.”

“It is fine, Jesse,” Hanzo says, touching his boyfriend’s hair affectionately before moving to kneel on the other side of the mess. “Now, show me what to do so we can get back to bed.”

Jesse went overboard with stocking stuffers, because of course he did. It makes Hanzo smile because Jesse never splurges on himself; his cowboy is content with the simple things in life, happy to make do with whatever hand he is dealt, but only wants the best for his family. Perhaps once that family was a small list, but now he finds himself overflowing with people to care about and that care about him in return. So when he goes overboard, he  _ really  _ goes overboard.

Peanut butter cups, cream patties, chocolate bells, four different varieties of snack-sized candy bars, cow tails (which are caramel and cream sticks and at Hanzo’s confusion Jesse immediately ripped one open for them to share), licorice sticks, pecans, walnuts, and brazil nuts all get dropped into the stockings. All the younger children (and the younger agents, all the way up to Genji) get an orange in their stocking, while Jesse puts in chocolate oranges for everyone older. By the time he gets to the finishing touch of candy canes, each stocking is bulging with bounty.

They do not have a fireplace to hang them by, so Jesse and Hanzo spread all the stockings out on top of the flatter presents, and then on the floor when they run out of space. Once the last one is placed they step back to admire their work, Jesse’s arm finding its way around Hanzo’s shoulders. “What do you think?” he asks.

“Impressive,” Hanzo says, his own arm looping around Jesse’s waist. And it is. The tree was brought in by Zarya, the lights and tinsel and strings of beads were arranged with precision by Satya, and the ornaments were a group effort. Delicate baubles brought in by Ana and Jack hang next to big flashy plastic joke ornaments that Hana and Lúcio found on a mission in San Francisco. A string of Mei’s lantern lights glow in the reflection of Angela’s blue glass balls, each painted with the Star of David. Everyone has a little piece of themselves on the tree. “And in a few hours it will be a disaster.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jesse chuckles.

Hanzo stifles a yawn, the late hour hitting him again. “We should get to bed. Do we need to turn out the lights?”

He moves to do so, or tries to, but the arm around his shoulders does not give to the movement and holds him in place. When he looks up he finds Jesse looking down at him, a thoughtful look on his face. “Let’s open our presents now.”

And just like that, Hanzo’s heart is in his throat. “What?” he squeaks.

“It’s like you said, in a few hours this place will be a madhouse.” Jesse’s hand moves up so he can card fingers through Hanzo’s hair. He smiles, something a little crooked about it. “Let’s open ours now, just the two of us. Okay?”

“Okay?” Hanzo repeats, even has his mind screams at him to make an excuse. Because Hanzo had a plan. A tentative plan, sure, but a plan nonetheless. He had, well, not a speech but at least words in mind. And he was going to get down on one knee. He supposes he can still get down on one knee, but the words he practiced are gone from his mind, lost to his nerves because this is happening. This is happening right now, and he is ready but he is not prepared at all.

All this runs through Hanzo’s mind as he follows Jesse to the tree to retrieve their gifts. There are so many presents piled under the tree that finding a single gift proves to be a challenge. Luckily Hanzo knows exactly where his precious gift is, having made sure it was hidden next to one of the large boxes near the back. He has to step and lean precariously over a whole mountain of presents just to reach it. So preoccupied with his own gift retrieval, Hanzo does not notice Jesse doing a very similar dance on the other side of the tree.

You can do this, he tells himself, fingers tight on the red wrapped box tied with a white ribbon.  _ He loves you, he is going to say yes, you can do this. _

Hanzo turns, mouth opening to say something heartfelt and genuine, when he spots the gift in Jesse’s hands.

The same red paper. The same white bow. The same cardstock tag cut like lace and lined with gold filigree. The box the exact same size. And an identical expression of shock on Jesse’s face looking down at the present in Hanzo’s hands.

Jesse breaks first, a trembling hand leaping to cover his mouth, awe and hope in his voice. “Hanzo?”

Unbridled joy wells up like a spring inside him, and suddenly Hanzo is laughing. So is Jesse, and the tears come soon after. Hanzo flings himself into Jesse’s waiting arms. They squeeze and hold each other as a thousand emotions overwhelm them, Jesse lifting Hanzo off the ground in his elation. All Hanzo can do is bury his face in Jesse’s shoulder and hope he does not fly apart into a million pieces from sheer happiness.

“Are you serious?” Jesse asks, putting Hanzo back on his feet. He lifts his face away from Hanzo’s hair just enough so he can cup Hanzo’s jaw with his hand, tilt his head up to gaze into eyes overflowing. “Really?”

Hanzo nods, his free hand lighting like a butterfly on Jesse’s hair, down the side of his face to his neck and chest. “Really,” he replies, smile so wide his cheeks hurt. His next laugh is too loud, and he actually jumps a little. “Jesse! You really--?”

“Yeah, I did, and you--!”

He gets cut off as Hanzo yanks him down into an ecstatic movement that is supposed to be a kiss but is more like smashing two grins together and hoping for the best. Jesse sets them right with a head tilt and a practiced tongue, and Hanzo clings to his fiancé with all his might. Wait. “Wait,” Hanzo gasps, pushing back. “I want to--”

Jesse is already nodding. “Yeah, yeah, we should--” It seems neither of them are capable of full sentences yet.

They exchange one red-wrapped present for another. The tag on Hanzo’s reads  _ To The Sweetest Sugar Pie Honey Bee  _ and Hanzo chokes out a little happy sob. He tears into his gift, as does Jesse, and they each open matching boxes. “Oh, Jesse,” Hanzo coos at the gold ring covered in the subtlest of dragon scales, taken aback by how similar their choices were. “It’s beautiful.”

Jesse’s soft gasp draws his attention, the cowboy lifting his ring from the plush pillow in the box. “Darlin’,” he says, voice choked with emotion. To Hanzo, he has never looked happier. He steps close again, looks Hanzo in the eye. “Marry me?”

“Yes,” Hanzo says, laughing. “Marry me?”

“Yes. Hell yes. Yes, yes, yes!” Jesse shouts, swooping in to kiss him again.

They eventually get the rings on the right fingers, and eventually stumble back to their room while fighting to keep their giggles quiet. They manage to keep their hands out of each other’s robes until safely behind closed doors.

 

\---

 

Loud pounding brings Hanzo out of a deep, contented sleep, quickly followed by the squeals of a dozen excited children.  _ “WAKE UP MISTER JESSE! WAKE UP MISTER HANZO! IT’S CHRISTMAS!” _

More banging, and Jesse shouts, “Alright! Don’t get your tinsel in a tangle, we’re comin’!” That seems good enough for the kids who abandon their door and move onto the next, the knocks muffled the farther they go. Behind him Jesse groans and buries his face deeper between Hanzo’s shoulder blades. “Ugh. Too much energy.”

Hanzo smirks and scoots his rear back into Jesse in an intimate press of warm muscle. “After last night, you are one to talk.”

“Mmm, that is true,” Jesse murmurs, plastering himself to Hanzo’s back from shoulder to knee. He nuzzles under Hanzo’s ear and down to the numerous bite marks he left along the skin of his neck. “Love’ll do that to a man, you know.”

“I know,” Hanzo says, turning in Jesse’s hold for a lazy morning kiss with his fiancé. After, he holds up his left hand between them to admire the gold on his ring finger and the man who gave it to him. Jesse raises his own, broad and dark and sprinkled with hair. The metal clinks when their fingers entwine.

 

\---

 

Lena spots the rings halfway through Christmas morning, when the children have left an absolute mess of paper and the adults are finally free to tear into their own presents. She screams, drawing everyone’s attention, then just points at Hanzo and Jesse’s hands. Mei starts in next, a high squeal that makes Jamison wince at the decibels. When Genji finally notices what the fuss is about, he tackles his brother right off his perch on the arm of the couch, shouting that if he is not best man he is disowning Hanzo forever.

Even later, after everyone has fawned over the rings, after Ana hugged Hanzo and kissed Jesse’s cheek, after a toast in honor of the pending nuptials, after talk of dates and seasons and locations and cake and how a winter wedding next year would be simply gorgeous, Jesse pulls Hanzo close and presses a kiss to his hairline, where the black fades to gray. “Best Christmas of my life, darlin’.”

Hanzo breathes out a sigh of contentment and spots a speck of glitter in Jesse’s beard. “Mine, too,” he replies, thinking of all the ones yet to come.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like that and want more, want to check out my art, or just want to chat, come on by my tumblr! You can find me under username wyntera. And if twitter is more your game, come and join me there, just look for @ThreeCatDesigns.
> 
> And hey. Thanks.


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